Say Something
by Tay1019411
Summary: It was always expected that the hero would fail at least once in a lifetime of protecting. Sam knew this, but unfortunately, what happened took a greater toll on Danny than what she expected. Now, she can only hope she can pick up the pieces. Oneshot


**Say Something**

_"Say something, I'm giving up on you"_

"Danny?"

He was silent, just sitting there looking at the floor. He looked as if he was at a total loss, a desperate emptiness in his eyes.

As she moved closer to where he was sitting, she noticed he was still bleeding. His injuries were still open and unattended to. His clothes were ripped and stained with dirt and blood.

He didn't seem to take notice to any of this. Not even his apparent exhaustion was distracting him. He just stared at the wall ahead of him, looking hollowed out.

She stared at him for a long second, waiting to be acknowledge by him, but it never came. She knew he was well aware of her presence.

She sighed, walking forward, knowing it was no use getting his attention. She would have to initiate it, but for now, she had to take care of his injuries. She wasn't going to leave the task up to Danny because she knew he would tend to them too late.

She kneeled in front of him, sitting in her heels, as she dragged the first aid kit from under his bed. She had one just like it under her own bed for cases like this, so did Tucker. Unfortunately, they had to restock it more than once.

Sam took out the gauze and anesthetic, first grabbing a few pieces of cotton balls to rub the anesthetic on the gashes that littered his arms. She worked mechanically, inspecting and cleaning every wound. All the while, Danny didn't move, his solemn gaze never tearing away from the wall, not even to wince at the harsh burns of anesthetic making contact with his open wounds.

She moved down to one of his legs, noticing there was a particularly huge blood stain on the front shin of his jeans. Holding her breath, the goth rolled up his pants' leg carefully, the bloody part crinkling unnaturally. She found a huge laceration splitting the skin of his shin apart. It was pretty deep, and she could have sworn she saw bone through the blood. She shook her head a couple of times, biting her tongue; she couldn't believe he left it like this. She could still see the blood dripping down his leg, pooling at his socks, turning them an angry red.

Like the others, she cleaned it thoroughly, taking care to clean the rest of his leg that was covered in the crimson mixed emerald blood. She put bandages on the others but came to a stop when she got to the cut on his leg, knowing that he should get stitches. But, Danny going to the hospital was out of the question, so she settled for putting the butterfly stitches on it to hold the skin together instead. She hoped it would heal fast enough before they ran out of them.

She finally finished, putting the kit away. For the first time since she began, she looked up at his face. His expression was the same crumpled and defeated one she saw when she came in. He was still staring at the wall. He didn't even look at her.

"You have to talk to me," she said, rising to sit next to him on his bed. She watched him move with the bed as her weight settled on it when she sat. She didn't know why it scared her so much to see this, maybe it was the way it made him look so lifeless. "You have to talk about what happened."

In a matter of hours, it was all over the news. Before today, Amity took for granted just how much Danny prevented disaster in the city. How much he actually protected them. Today, the city was shocked to its core in the most awful way of just how much Danny did for them. A woman was killed in a ghost attack. The ghost killed her. Danny Phantom was too late to save her. It reminded everybody that the hero didn't win all the time, that there were casualties.

Sam knew he was torn up inside, blaming himself for what that ghost did. Even though Sam knew there was no way he could have made it in time, what mattered was that Danny didn't believe that because he believed he has to save everybody.

"Danny, please," Sam urged. "Let me in."

The boy shook his head, not even looking at her. Even if she leaned in closer to see his face, it would have been impossible with the way his shaggy hair was masking most of his features.

"I'm not going away, so you better do it now before I get pissed."

Danny looked at her then. She was shocked to see there was no part of that optimistic, carefree boy she was in love with in his expression. It was completely devoid on anything Danny. He looked like he was in complete agony.

They stared at each other, the silence extending.

"I killed her," he said, his voice sounding as if he hans't spoken in days.

"No, that ghost did," she said forcefully, narrowing her eyes at him to get her point across.

"And, I should have stopped it," he countered, looking down. There was no anger in his voice, no argument. He sounded defeated, not like her Danny at all.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" She asked, not liking how much in pain he was in.

"Because I deserve it," he said simply.

"No," she said, her voice growing in magnitude. "No, you don't, Danny." She was getting ready to tell him exactly why he shouldn't punish himself, how stupid it was, how it wasn't his fault.

"Sam," Danny said. Something in his voice, the way he said her name, stopped her dead. She looked at him to see that he was staring at her, tears brimming his eyes until they were falling freely down his cheeks. "Somebody died. She died."

He said this as if he was trying to convince himself it was true, the harsh reality of it all.

He choked back a sob, looking even more at loss with himself.

Sam took him into her arms, wrapping him tightly as his head rested on her shoulder. Another shuddering sob went through him, making Sam's body move with his.

Tears pricked her eyes; she blinked at them forcefully, trying to drive them away. She couldn't cry, not in front of him, not when he needed her.

"Please don't do this to yourself," Sam whispered desperately. She never liked it when he was pain, when she couldn't make it go away. She was so used to helping him, to making him feel better. There was no problem that she couldn't help him with, but this, this made her feel so useless. She couldn't make the hurt go away. She couldn't fix this, and this was her own agony, seeing the boy she loved fall to pieces.

"I could have saved her."


End file.
